


Winnipeg

by drpinkky



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Peggy and Angie go to the ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 15:12:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drpinkky/pseuds/drpinkky
Summary: Peggy and Angie get an invitation to a party from the Duchess of Winnipeg





	Winnipeg

Despite the question of “national security,” Angie Martinelli always peeked through the mail addressed to Peggy Carter. After all, Peggy spent so much time as Director of SHIELD, she often didn’t come home in time for the mail. Angie’s performance schedule, while rigorous, gave her significantly more time to do such mundane things around the house. Not that she was nosey (maybe a little bit), or actually interested in that sort of stuff (not at all, really), more so she had a general idea of where Peggy might have to go next, and so she could tell Peggy about the important mail on her desk. And really, if it were truly dangerous, it would go to SHIELD headquarters anyway, right? So the dangers posed by Angie’s snooping were actually fairly low. 

Over the years, Angie developed a sixth sense for the kinds of things in the mail based on their envelope. The stamp of whatever alphabet soup government agency? Boring. The Army? Dull. Handwritten address from England? Family. Handwritten address from Canada, though, with elegant calligraphy written in shimmery blue ink? Angie only saw something like this once before, and the memory of it brought a smile to her face. 

The last time they went to Winnipeg because of this sort of letter, they partied with a mixed bag of people from diplomats and world leaders, to herpetologists and optometrists. Back then, the Duchess of Winnipeg apparently somehow caught wind of a new secret agency in America, and wanted to get to know those involved. Despite their efforts, neither Peggy nor Angie ever figured out how the Duchess heard of SHIELD, but Peggy was glad to spend some time networking, even if the presence of maybe half the guests seemed odd for that kind of gathering. Angie always wanted to return. 

Peggy came home surprisingly early that day, and as she entered, Angie all but threw the envelope at her. 

“Peg, we’re going to Canada!”

Peggy laughed as she took the letter. “Give me a moment to get settled,” she said, and walked to the dining room to set down her briefcase. “You didn’t tell me you developed X-ray vision.” They kissed quickly once Peggy emptied her hands. “I missed you, darling.”

“I have my ways,” Angie said. Peggy nodded. “Missed you too, English.”

“You know,”She said as she opened the envelope, “Reading other people’s mail is a federal offense,”

Angie gasped dramatically and clutched at a string of imaginary pearls. “Miss Carter!” She cried in a voice well practiced after hours of making fun of their old landlady. “Why, I never!” Peggy laughed at Angie’s theatrics, then turned her focus to the letter. As she skimmed it, a frown pulled at her lips. 

“What’s going on?”

“The Duchess is dead,” Peggy said, “This is an invitation from her daughter, the new Duchess. She wants to meet the people her mother knew, in an official capacity. I’ve got a feeling a few other leaders will be there, at least.”

“What’s the dress code?”

“Says here it’s Vibrant Formal Dress.”

 

After a shopping trip or two, they both had outfits that could satisfy the dress code. Peggy leaned more on the vibrant requirement, contrasting a deep blue dress with red accents. Angie, meanwhile, stuck with formal, and wore an emerald green gown and silver jewelry. On the flight over, they took turns doing each other’s hair until they each settled on an updo they liked. 

“We’re gonna be the best looking pair there,” Angie said from in front of the full-length mirror at the back of the plane. Peggy smiled.

“We’re the best looking pair anywhere we go, my love,” she joined Angie and placed a kiss on her cheek. Her lips left a bright red mark in their wake. 

“We’re about to land,” came the pilot’s voice over the intercom, “please take your seats.”

They followed his instructions. Angie took a napkin from the table in between them and rubbed at the lipstick on her cheek, trying to remove it without taking the rest of her makeup along with it. “I’ll get you for this, English,” she grumbled. Peggy just sat back and laughed. 

 

A plethora of people populated the promenade at the palace and made the path to the front door nearly impassible when approached directly. Clearly, everyone had the same idea as Peggy, get to know the new Duchess, as well as the rest of the players in the game. With all the smiling and waving and hand-shaking they did as they walked up the stairs to the front door, Angie felt like a movie star. Granted, she was one, but this gathering dwarfed some of her premiers.

“We sure missed a memo, huh?” Angie leaned over to whisper to Peggy as they walked. “Kinda creepy, these eyes?”

Everyone present seemed to interpret the dress code instruction differently, but one common motif was eyes. Practically every person present made eyes a part of their apparel. Of course, on Broadway and in films, Angie had some experience with staring, but there was something unnerving about this many eyes.

“Hm?” Peggy’s attention snapped to Angie. She had been scanning the crowd, likely for any possible threats. “Oh, yes.”

During their next pause to talk, Angie pointedly complimented a woman’s tacky brooch in the shape of an eye. The woman laughed and said something about where she got it, but neither Peggy nor Angie heard. Instead, they offered her smiles and nods, then exchanged a look and kept moving. 

“Wasn’t like that before, was it?” Peggy asked. Angie shook her head. 

“There were some, I think, but not as many.”

Peggy took Angie’s hand and intertwined their fingers, a comforting gesture for both of them. “We don’t have to stay long. Just have to find the Duchess and shake a few hands.”

They stepped through the doors and into a large room lined with columns. Despite its grandness, the Duchess, fortunately, wasn’t all that hard to find. A peal of laughter came from one side of the room, from a large group of people all focused on one woman. She wore a pink sleeveless gown, with her hair pinned just like Lauren Bacall’s was the last time Angie ran into her. A tight smile stretched across her face, the kind that would look real to anyone who didn’t care to look closely. Someone said something in response and she nodded noncommittally as she took a swig of the root beer float in her hand. The angle from which Peggy and Angie observed her gave them a good view of how her face fell, obscured from the rest of the crowd by her glass.

“Shall we extricate her?” Peggy asked. Angie nodded. As they approached, the Duchess locked eyes with them and stepped away from the crowd. 

“Director Carter and Angie Martinelli, I presume?”

The two nodded. The Duchess smiled, genuinely this time as she shook each of their hands. “My mother thought very highly of you two. I appreciate your attendance.” 

“I was so sorry to hear she passed,” Peggy said, “my condolences.” 

Angie nodded in agreement. Rather than repeat Peggy’s words, she opted for a simple, “we thought highly of her, too.” 

The Duchess nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.” She sighed, and plastered on that fake smile again. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Anyway, where are my manners? You’ve been here for how long, and don’t have a drink?” She beckoned to a waiter with a tray of root beer floats. Peggy and Angie each took one. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have some people you might be interested in meeting.” 

The Duchess was right about that interest. More accurately, those people were far more interested in meeting them than vice versa. The Duchess introduced them to the circle of people they saw her with as they entered, and all eyes, including those embroidered and bejeweled and bedazzled, turned to them. This much attention wore at Angie’s patience and she felt her own smile wearing out. Once the King of Arizona stole Peggy away, though, Angie found herself immensely bored. She also found the Duchess was nowhere around.

A flash of pink at the other end of the building caught Angie’s eye and she pulled out of the circle of people, pausing only to murmur into Peggy’s ear so she wouldn’t be surprised to find Angie gone. She quickly made her way through the ballroom and out to the balcony. The Duchess leaned against the railing and stared out at the stars. 

“Hey, Duchess,” Angie said from the doorway. 

The Duchess sighed heavily. “Jacquelyn, please.” 

Her reply was so fragile, Angie wasn’t sure she heard right. She crossed the balcony to stand next to Jacquelyn. “What’s that?”

“Too many people call me Duchess. My name is Jacquelyn. My title is Duchess.” 

Angie nodded. “Jacquelyn.” She let the name hang there for a moment. Jacquelyn smiled at her. 

“What can I do for you, Angie?” 

Angie leaned on the railing and shrugged. “You seemed like you weren’t having a lot of fun at your big party. Need an ear?” Jacquelyn sighed again and nodded. 

“I don’t even know most of these people,” she started. “They’re supposed to be my associates, and yet almost all of the people I’d actually call my associates are dead.”

The blunt admission caught Angie a little off guard, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary, considering the stories Peggy brought home. Jacquelyn turned to look out at the stars.

“There are three children out there, in terrible danger,” she continued, “and yet I’m here, safe, in Winnipeg.”

“Deaths never come at good times,” Angie said gently. Jacquelyn nodded. 

“There’s a meeting soon,” she said. “The remainder of the people I actually know will be there.”

“But you can’t go?” Angie supplied. Jacquelyn nodded. 

“Two weeks ago, I was a secretary at a bank, and I could have.” She blinked several times. “I could have done a lot of things. Now, I’m just being used to further others’ agendas.”

“You know that for sure?” Angie asked. Jacquelyn nodded. 

“Everyone here has an agenda of some kind,” Jacquelyn turned to Angie with a raised eyebrow, silently asking, _what’s yours?_

“I don’t know about that,” Angie replied, “I guess maybe you can put ‘looking good with my wife’ down for my agenda, but she got swept up in that mess back there, so I suppose I’ve been thwarted.”

That drew a laugh out of Jacquelyn. A clock somewhere rang the hour. Jacquelyn grimaced in its direction. “I suppose I ought to head back into the fray, then?” She asked. 

Angie shook her head. “One actress to another?” Jacquelyn looked back at Angie, curiosity plain on her face. “You don’t have to until you’re good and ready.”

“How could you tell?”

“That you’re an actress? Lucky guess.” She grinned. “And only someone with a flair for the dramatic would come out _here_ to be alone.” She gestured to the picturesque view from the balcony.

Jacquelyn laughed again. “Fair point,”

Over the course of their conversation, Angie noticed a few things about Jacquelyn. Her protectiveness came out in the way she talked about her last job as a pretend secretary for a bank. Her isolation in her position in Winnipeg, forced from one stressful situation to a completely different one with hardly any time to adjust. And despite that struggle, she still found some way to keep everything together. 

She just needed someone to talk to.

Funny how that works out.

The two actresses did not return to the party until it came to a close. Jacquelyn could only play bad hostess for so long, after all. As a clock rang the late hour, Jacquelyn resigned herself to a lengthy process of getting everyone out of her house. Angie followed her back inside to find Peggy. She spotted a flash of blue from behind a column and weaved through the crowd to join her. 

“Hello, darling,” Peggy said and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Her lipstick wore away as the party wore on, so the display of affection left no mark. “I wondered where you ran off to.”

“You came here to get to know the Duchess, and you hardly saw her,” Angie said in lieu of a direct response. Jacquelyn rushed past their alcove to speak with an elderly gentleman decorated in medals tottering around the far end of the room. She helped lead him toward the door, fake smile screwed onto her face. Angie leaned into Peggy and sighed. “Poor thing.”

“Which one?” Peggy asked. Angie chuckled. The sound drew Jacquelyn’s eye as she passed them again. Her fake smile slipped as she met Angie’s gaze and betrayed her frustration with the old man. Angie took pity on her and tugged Peggy toward them.

“Duchess,” Angie said. Jacquelyn pursed her lips at the title. “Peggy here was just saying how she missed getting the chance to speak with you,”

“Oh, Director Carter,” Jacquelyn said and stepped away from the old man. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Fuchs, but if you’ll excuse me,” 

The old man nodded amiably.

“How about I help you out,” Angie said to the man. He smiled vacantly and let Angie guide him toward the lawn until one of the chauffeurs called his name. She led him to the car and ensured he made it in safely, then turned back to the building. She found Jacquelyn and Peggy deep in conversation. 

“…and to get out of his office,” Peggy said, “I stapled his bodyguard’s face.”

Jacquelyn looked suitably impressed. “My associates and I made films which contained encoded messages,” she offered. 

“See, I keep telling Peggy she should look into that sort of thing,” Angie said. Peggy laughed. “She just won’t listen.”

Jacquelyn still had to play hostess as the last of the guests trickled out the doors, so they couldn’t continue their conversation in earnest until everyone left but Peggy and Angie. When the front hall was empty, though, she led the two into a living room, where Jacquelyn and Peggy settled into a game of lighthearted oneupwomanship. Angie interjected when she could to help liven up whatever anecdote Peggy told, but as the night wore on, she found herself speaking less and less. Eventually, the clock rang one, and though neither Jacquelyn nor Peggy seemed ready to stop, Angie let out an exaggerated yawn.

“Tired, darling?” Peggy asked. Angie nodded and leaned into her. “I suppose I can call Howard’s pilot,” Peggy glanced at her watch. 

“I’d hate for you to take a red eye on my account,” Jacquelyn said quickly. “There’s plenty of rooms here,”

“I don’t want to impose,” Peggy said, but Jacquelyn shook her head. 

“I insist.” 

Before Peggy could continue her polite protests, Angie nodded. “Who are we to refuse your hospitality?” She asked, all but covering Peggy’s mouth with her hand. Jacquelyn laughed. She led Peggy and Angie to a bedroom, where the two spent the last few hours before dawn asleep in their gowns. 

On the plane home, after a nice breakfast and promises to return, Peggy and Angie agreed that all in all, the trip was a success. And that they should pack overnight bags on their return.

**Author's Note:**

> ANYWAY PEGGY JACQUELYN PARALLELS.  
> I'm on Twitter at drpinkky  
> I'm on tumblr at drpinkky and lesbianscieszka


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